


No pain, no gain

by AnOddSock



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bondage, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Breathplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Sex, Choking, Cock Warming, Coming In Pants, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Demon Dean Winchester, Dick Pics, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Frottage, Gags, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Over stimulation, Pain Kink, Pining, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Rough Dean Winchester, Rough Sex, S&M, Sadism, Strangulation, Sub Castiel (Supernatural), Threesome - M/M/M, Top Dean Winchester, Zip Ties, beatings, choked into unconsciousness, it's brief but it's in there, sex while clothed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOddSock/pseuds/AnOddSock
Summary: When Cas ignores Sam's advice to leave Dean alone and instead finds him holed up in a seedy bar, he gets more than he bargained for and everything he ever hoped for, all at once.It's hard to keep secrets from someone who instinctively knows how to push all your buttons, but maybe Cas can be the thing that entices Dean to come back home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854007
Comments: 27
Kudos: 160
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much a PWP! For the SPN Kink Bingo, square filled: Sado-Masochism
> 
> Set around 10.03, when Dean is a demon
> 
> Consent in this is... tricky. Cas _would_ consent if Dean gave him chance, and I hope I conveyed that with his inner thoughts, but with Dean being a demon at this point... he doesn't actually give Cas chance to, and there is no negotiation of kink or discussion of boundaries, Dean just goes for it. Consensual, but not safe of sane is very apt, here. If this sounds like too much for your reading preferences, don't say I didn't warn you!

“Are you going to do this without a fight?”

Cas considered Dean for a moment. He’d already lost his angel blade in their brief tussle because he wasn’t willing to hurt Dean. And with the blade held casually close to his throat he’d divested himself of his coat and jacket, at Dean’s “request”. He wasn’t here to make things difficult, he was here to see his friend. He was here to bring Dean home.

He’d broken his promise to Sam to stay away while Dean was hunted down and brought back to the bunker to be cured, and the least he could do was obey one Winchester who gave him orders today. He inclined his head with a nod. “For you, anything.”

Dean scoffed. “Turn around, then. Hands behind your back.”

He complied, didn’t even flinch as Dean cinched the zip tie too tightly, letting it cut into his skin with a low hum of pleasure that he tried very hard to ignore. Now was not the time. Dean added two more zip ties, another around his wrists and for the third Cas felt a jolt at his belt; an experimental tug let him know his wrists were tethered to his waistband.

“Is that all?” he asked, turning around to face Dean.

Dean hummed, cocking his head, “Are you finally smart enough to know impossible odds when you see them? Is that why you won’t fight back?”

“I’ll do anything you ask, Dean. I always would have.”

“Yeah, except for leaving me alone when I don’t want to be found. Pretty much the only thing I’ve asked of you lately.” He picked up a pool cue, swung it around until the air parted before it with a swoosh. “Think if I bruise you up enough Sammy might think twice before sending you after me again?”

“Sam didn’t send me, in fact he asked me to stay away,” Cas replied calmly.

Dean appraised him with a look of disbelief. “That seems unlikely, with how you two are joined at the hip. It never was right, that he got into your pants before me.”

“My relationship with Sam bears no relevance to how I feel about you.”

“And how do you feel about me, Cas? Hoping to spin me a tale, get me to listen? Catch me off guard in the process?”

“I care, deeply. I thought that much was obvious.”

“Didn’t stop you from banging the brains out of my little brother though, did it?”

“Are you… jealous?” Cas asked, actually curious. He loved Sam, and Sam loved him, but that didn’t have to be _it._ There was room in all of their lives for more. He’d submit to anything, if Dean would only ask.

“Not sure I feel a lot of anything, given my current condition.” Dean’s eyes flashed to inky depths, and he winked. “Apart from the urge to turn you black ‘n blue, just for fun.”

The pool cue swung again, connected with Cas’s midriff and knocked all the air out of him. He doubled over, wheezing through the pain and groaned as the heat from the blow spread down where he really didn’t want it to go. Dean struck again, on his back and bound arms, walked around to catch Cas on the chest a third time as he arched backwards.

Cas yelled, air stuck in lungs that didn’t want to expand around the impact site. Dean stepped close, grabbed his hair and yanked so he could whisper against the shell of Cas’s ear. “You make a good piñata.”

He hauled Cas close, and Cas half heartedly pulled back, relishing the sting in his scalp, chasing the pinpricks of pain that sang sweetly alongside the blossoming contusions. This wasn’t the time or place but his body didn’t seem to care. He moaned and Dean paused, momentarily, before pushing a knee against his crotch.

“Oh, and he _likes_ it. Got a little fetish there, Angel? You always did feel things more acutely than those other winged fuckers, does that extend to the bedroom, too?”

Cas grunted, and tried to twist away. “What I do in the bedroom is between me and those who I choose to take there.” He didn’t add that he’d take Dean to bed in a heartbeat, if Dean would only ask him.

“Until you let it all hang out in public.” Dean stepped back and thrust the pool cue up between his legs, until it nudged threateningly against his half-hard cock. “This isn’t exactly keeping it secret. Does Sam know about this little _thing_ you have going? Does he play rough with you, show you a real good time?”

“For someone who says he doesn’t care, you have a lot of questions.”

Dean smirked and his eyes flickered black again. “Just trying to get a rise out of you…though,” he laughed. “I suppose I already did.”

He pulled back and struck Cas again, too many times in quick succession for Cas to keep count. The pain spread into what felt like one giant bruise. He tried to keep his reactions to himself but let slip an uncontrollable noise or two. Sounds that seemed to drive Dean wild, eyes alight and grin broadening. Cas was on his knees, looking up at the once-man, now-demon who used to be his friend. Even like this, he would trust Dean with his life; he would let Dean _end_ his life, if Dean so chose. 

Cas’s own desires were written plain between his legs, throbbing, tender flesh that strained toward Dean like a compass finding true North. Pain always felt good, he found, but it felt even better when inflicted by someone he cared for. Even if right now Dean didn’t care the way he had before, he still held Cas in some regard, still knew Cas as well as any human ever had, and that counted for something.

Dean hauled him off his knees and dragged him backwards until Cas’s back slammed into the wall. He groaned again, dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder and shook. His breathing was loud and ragged. 

Dean cupped him through his pants and _tsked_. “Still hard, still wanting. I wonder what it would take to make you soft?”

Cas made a strangled noise.

“What was that angel? Use your words.” Dean pulled his head back to look him in the eyes.

“Doesn’t… won’t lose it. Not… not when it’s you.”

“Could you come like this? All tied up and bruised and hurting?”

Cas nodded, holding Dean’s gaze steady. Dean took it as a challenge. He brushed up against Cas, crotch to crotch and ground their cocks together. Dean was hard too, Cas could feel it where Dean humped him. 

“You… you’re responding too,” he gasped.

“Of course angelcake, seeing you hurting, making all those little noises, it turns me on like nothing I’ve ever felt. Being the _cause_ of it is driving me wild.” He kissed the bolt of Cas’ jaw, bit into the skin of his neck and Cas bucked his hips, finding empty air.

Cas whined, pitifully, wantonly, his eyes fluttered closed and then slammed back open as the solid line of the pool cue pressed on the underside of his balls and further, until it teased his cock.

“Try this on for size,” Dean said, leaning on one arm, breath close enough to mingle, and holding the cue steady with the other. “And keep making those noises, it’s fucking hot.”

When Cas didn’t immediately start moving, Dean did it for him. Slowly rubbed the wooden cue back and forth, pressing up just a little too hard, giving Cas something painful to rut up against. 

“How does it feel Cas?” 

Cas’s eyes rolled back, his head hit the wall and he groaned. “Like fireworks. So, it’s... I’m so hot.”

“Painful?” Dean asked and tapped Cas’s balls just on the _right_ side of too hard.

“Yes!”

“But you like it?”

Cas looked into Dean’s eyes, swallowed. He didn’t want to lie. He couldn’t lie, not with his body parading the truth directly under Dean’s nose. He nodded. Dean abandoned the pool cue, dropped it to the floor with a clatter and pushed himself into Cas’s space. 

He bracketed Cas with his body, shoved a knee between Cas’s legs and placed a hand bruisingly tight around Cas’s throat. Pinned, caught, and with everything throbbing, Cas rutted against Dean as the pleasure rose within him like a tidal wave. He twisted his hands behind his back, felt the sweet agonising pinch of his skin beneath the plastic ties, and leaned into the ache that Dean’s hand squeezed around his neck.

“Gonna come for me?” Dean whispered, licked a stripe along Cas’s neck and nuzzled up his face, before pressing their foreheads together. “Gonna give me something you never have before?”

Cas wanted to, desperately. He’d always wanted to. Even now, with Dean like this, it wasn’t enough to stem the tide of his desire. His cock was achingly hard, caught up in the material of his slacks and underwear, and even the chafing rub of the fabric wasn’t enough to kill the mood. Dean surged against his crotch and rubbed his hip along the hard line of Cas’s cock in just the right way and Cas’s knees almost buckled.

“Dean,” he said, lost for any other words. This wasn’t right, he wasn’t here to do this. Dean had struck past all of his defences, and Cas had _wanted_ him to. He was glad, it was about time Dean saw him for all that he was. “Close.”

Dean grinned — evil and sparkling with treachery, but he caught Cas’s lip between his teeth and bit down until Cas tasted blood. It tipped Cas over the edge and he came with a shout that was half smothered by lips and tongue and teeth. He came with the taste of his own blood in his mouth, and Dean’s deep dark chuckle ringing in his ears.

* * *

It wasn’t hard for Dean to get Cas in his car; with his wrists still tied, nearly boneless from the high of his orgasm, and with the encroaching pain that was starting to border on too much without the pleasure to soften it.

The familiar vinyl seats squeaked beneath him and the tape in the player whirring to life tickled at his sense memories. 

Being bound was different, uncomfortable, strange to be so powerless.

Dean throwing glances at him, urgent and filled with something more. That was the same.

Dean’s hand that kept creeping across the space to squeeze his crotch painfully, and run his fingertips over the drying mess that his semen had made of his clothes—that was wrong. Wrong in a way that Cas _liked_ , that felt _right._

Dean groped him again, and Cas was beyond sensitive. He keened, wanted to move away from the touch but the only movement available was to buck up into Dean’s hand. He threw his head back and breathed harshly, his hips squirming from side to side and getting him nowhere. He focused on the pain of his pinned and squashed hands, something other than the almost-agony of his spent cock being over-stimulated so expertly.

Dean chuckled, removed his hand, and Cas cracked his eyes open to see him rearrange the bulge in his own jeans. Cas wondered what the end game here was, where Dean thought this was going; where they were _actually_ going. He regretted nothing, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t apprehensive.

“Why,” Cas sucked in air through his mouth, and tried to get his body under control, violently shivering instead. “Why are we in the car Dean?”

Dean threw him a soft smile, and though it hardened into something akin to malice as Dean looked away Cas was glad to see it.

“I like driving my dates home at the end of the night.” Dean shrugged. “Makes me feel like I treated them real special.”

Cas peered out the window at the mid afternoon sun, and gave Dean a pointed look. “Long time until nightfall.”

“Long drive,” Dean countered with a wink.

“And are we… going home?”

“Gotta get you safely tucked in in one piece, you’re in no fit state to make it back by yourself.” Dean’s hand shot across the space and curled around Cas’s cock again, he gripped and jacked his hand slowly up the clothed member.

“S-stop! Dean! Hmppphh.” Cas bit his lip and turned away.

“You’re filthy, these clothes are getting so stiff. How does it feel?”

“Uncomfortable,” Cas snapped. The dried come made the fabric feel more coarse, the friction was almost unbearable now. He liked his pain, but he liked it to lead somewhere and his body was _done_ , there was nowhere left it could go. Not for the time being.

He cried out again as Dean added more pressure, and then near sobbed in relief at getting a moment's respite. “Keep making those sounds Angel, they’re sending my blood right where I want it.”

Cas bit his tongue to avoid making an unwelcome retort and went back to staring out the window. He didn’t know how he could be so sure that Dean’s motives weren’t malicious when the demon within was clearly driving Dean to act so differently, but he was. He’d longed for this, it didn’t seem to matter how he got it.

* * *

He was put to the test again later, his trust pushed to its limits, when Dean finally pulled over and yanked him from the car. Shoved up against the hood Dean nuzzled his neck, teeth just scraping his clavicle and tongue dipping into the hollow there. Cas leant back and huffed as Dean’s knee was once again back between his legs, nudging too hard and too often.

“ _Dean._ ”

“Cas, Angel, Baby, you could give a man a heart attack.” Dean’s eyes flashed black at him. “Good job I’m not a man.”

Dean turned him round and bent him face down, ass up, kneaded at the globes of his ass and struck him hard with the flat of his palm. Cas jolted with a hiss. “What is the plan here, Dean?”

“Gonna fuck your brains out, I thought that was obvious.”

Dean slapped something down on the hood of the car with a metallic clang; his eyes snapped to it and fear settled somewhere in the depths of his stomach. The first blade—loosely held in Dean’s hand.

“I told you I wouldn’t fight,” he said, more strangled than he meant to be.

“So many things I can use a knife for that aren’t fighting,” Dean replied while he buried his nose in the hair on the back of Cas’ head. “Just need to get some _access_ back here.”

With a hand on the small of his back, Cas was held down under a bruising grip. The marks and bruises from his earlier encounter with the pool cue sparked and complained and he ignored them as the blade was lifted. He felt it trail around the backs of his thighs, felt the tip poke him on the flesh of his ass.

“Can’t go cutting you loose, but I can cut some other things. Hold real still now.”

Cas barely breathed. Muscles locked. Dean sliced, neatly and efficiently, through the seam of Cas’s pants. With teasing fingers he tore a hole in Cas’s briefs and ripped them apart.

“I could undress!”

“But this is better. So much better. You fully clothed but laid out for me to take. Just this one little hole here, where I can get to the meaty centre.”

A finger pushed between the layers of cut fabric and stroked his ass, dipped deeper and nudged at his furled hole. “Gonna ruin you for anyone else Cas, nothing will ever feel good enough again. Not unless you let me claim you. Over. And over. And over.”

Cas tugged at his zip-tied hands, felt the surge of pain soothe his frazzled nerves. He could do pain, he knew how to get lost in that. “Maybe that’s what I want. Maybe this is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Dean’s hot, blood heavy cock rubbed over his ass, the tip just pressed against the small amount of bare flesh. “You got a funny way of showing it.” Dean licked at the shell of his ear and then pulled away. 

Lube slick sounds followed, flesh on flesh and bottle top closing; hands rubbing over skin and then surprise cool liquid being pushed inside him. Not enough, probably, but he didn’t get a say. Knew he wouldn’t really want one, anyway.

It happened oh so fast, and ever so slow. The first push, insistent, the pain flared bright and new and vivid and Cas keened. He thrashed, and Dean held him tighter. His arms were used for leverage, Dean gripped with demonic strength and the blade was still in his hand, pressed in a line against Cas’s forearm, promising things Cas didn’t want.

The heat between his cheeks and thrusting into his ass delved deep and it was just right — felt like his, felt like home. His own cock responded, filled out all over again as he gave in to the pleasure and sank into the pain. He clenched so tightly around Dean he thought it couldn’t be enjoyable but Dean only laughed with his throaty, breathy chuckle.

“You always been like this, Angel? Or did turning human mess you up inside more than I realised?”

Dean slowed down his thrusts, gave Cas room to answer. “I feel things, deeply. Always—always have. My vessel didn’t… doesn’t know the difference.”

“It’s a good look on you, can’t believe I missed it.”

“You weren’t looking.” Cas gasped as Dean sped up.

“Didn’t want to see you fucking my brother,” Dean spat. 

“Dean, unngg, _Dean._ Perhaps,” he gulped, curled his toes as Dean brushed his prostate. “You’d have seen how we… we both wanted you, too. How we _missed you_.”

“ _What?”_ Dean said, voice pitched low. 

Dean stilled, his grip bruising and getting tighter. Cas closed his eyes, rested his cheek on the Impala’s sun-warmed metal. Their clothes brushed, and settled, fabric sliding and rustling as they breathed in tandem. Cas felt disgusting, come-dried clothes left to stick to his skin while Dean fucked him from behind, through his torn and ruined pants. The hurt, the pain, the bone-deep want was enough to almost push him over the edge.

“You could have had us both, all this time. We would have given you it, whatever you wanted.”

Dean didn’t speak again, but rammed home like the end of the world was coming up behind them and he had to finish before it got there. He wrapped an arm around Cas’s neck, hauled him up and fucked and fucked until hot, wet come filled Cas’s ass.

The nudges to his prostate and pressure on his body— arched backward, arms twisted behind him; the painful grip Dean had on his hip and the constriction around his throat; the jolting, bruising thrusts that knocked his hips into unyielding metal—were enough to throw him towards his second orgasm of the day. As Dean cut off more of his air, and his thrusts slowed down, a hand snaked around to brush knuckles over his cock. 

He came again without breath to scream, and blacked out before he finished.

* * *

He woke up slumped sideways in the passenger seat. Aware first of the hand still holding steady around his throat. He sucked in a breath and moaned, leaned into the hold and Dean chuckled.

“Begging for it,” Dean crooned. 

The fluid leaking from his ass came into focus second, slipping past his ripped clothes and going tacky beneath him and the seat. Disgusting, awful, and... exactly what he wanted. As he moved to get away, it _squelched_.

“Ah, ah, stay right there.” Dean’s grip tightened and his eyes fluttered open in alarm at the control Dean had taken of his breath. “You’ve got some explaining to do. Well…” Dean surveyed him, and he watched Dean’s eyes rove over his body. “Maybe not _you,_ you’re a bit out of it aren’t you?” 

Dean leaned in and planted a kiss on his forehead, before finally letting him breathe. He flashed Cas’s cellphone in his other hand.

“Sammy can fill in for you, I’m sure.”

Cas nodded, eyes following the lit up screen. He was floating, blissed out and starved of oxygen, and lost in the things Dean had done to him. His body ached all over in just the way he liked, and he was happy to sit and let the world carry on around him, for a while.

Sam picked up on the second ring. “Cas?”

“He's a little occupied at the moment,” Dean replied, closing his fist again so Cas gasped, mouth open and tongue panting for slips of air.

“Dean! What do you mean occupied? What have you done with him?”

“Calm your tits, Sam. He’s just a little out of breath that’s all. But there’s this funny thing he said when I was balls deep…” 

Dean let him breathe again and he sucked in air with a whine. His head dipped backwards and Dean’s grip followed. He felt warm all over, and Sam’s voice was helping.

“If you’ve hurt him—”

“Oh I hurt him, but only in the ways that count. Found all of his buttons to push. Right, Angel?”

He swallowed, pleasure rushing through him as he felt the tight press against his adam’s apple. “Sam, I'm fine, it's okay,” his voice was rough, but he knew Sam would hear the post-orgasm haze within it. Sam knew this. And now Dean did too… it was all he’d ever hoped for.

"You... you know…?” Sam sounded worried, choked up.

Dean smiled at Cas, leaned closer to breath in his scent. “Yeah I've learned so much today. Hear you've been holding out on me? That true, little brother?”

There was a long loaded pause, and Cas could imagine the way Sam would look, eyes screwed up, lips bitten, forehead wrinkled. “Dean…”

“Cat got your tongue there? Cuz I know it ain't _Cas_ that got your tongue because he's been here making all these sweet noises for me. So tell me Sam, is it true? Do you want me?”

Dean choked him again and his feet scrabbled uselessly in the footwell, ass squeaking on the seat as he couldn’t breathe and couldn’t breathe and _couldn’t breathe._

“Tick tock, Sammy. Cas is waiting for you to reply.”

“Yeah…”

Sam breathed out the word and Cas got to breathe too, as Dean’s eyes lit up and he moaned the most sinfully beautiful, gut wrenching sound.

“Prove it. Send me a picture. Think of our boy here all breathless and fucked out, high on the pain and begging for more. Think of me taking all my pent up frustrations out on him, and then on you for making me wait, for not telling me. Does that turn you on enough?”

“Alright, I… Yeah I can do that.”

Dean stroked lazily over his throat while they waited. Cas purred, felt his eyes glazed over at the threat, the promise, the _everything._

When the phone pinged and Dean pulled up the picture to look he smiled and his eyes turned black, even as heat coloured his cheeks. “There you are. Can hardly believe it.”

“Believe it,” Sam huffed down the phone. “So what now?”

Dean dropped the phone and turned the key in the ignition, the engine flared to life below him and Cas rattled a moan, still with Dean’s arm twisted around and hand clamped over his airway.

“Cas?” Sam’s voice was urgent.

“Sam, he's coming home. He's coming back to us,” Cas groaned.

“Yeah I am honey, no getting away from me now. Sam, meet us back at the Bunker. We've got lost time to make up for.”

Dean picked up the phone again, hung up the call, and turned the screen toward Cas. Sam’s hard, leaking cock filled the screen. His hand just in frame, holding himself steady for the camera.

“You recognise that? All at the thought of you suffering just the way he knows you like to.”

Cas nodded. “Dean…”

Dean’s grip tightened, vice-like, unforgiving. Cas sucked in the air that he could and flicked his eyes back and forth between his boyfriend’s cock, and Dean’s fascinated green eyes, until his vision and his ability to stay conscious began to waver.

“Shh, shh, just let it all fall away. We’re going home, Cas, and there’s so much I’m gonna do to you.”


	2. Bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for my SPN kink bingo square: bondage
> 
> The previous chapter of this fic was destiel on-screen, background sastiel, and implied wincest. **This is your two minute warning that this chapter contains very explicit wincest,** so if that's not your thing please feel free to back away now.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who was excited to see Sam come into play and get another instalment of this, inspiring me to pick it back up!

When Sam hurried down the stairs to the bunker he wasn’t sure what he expected to see, or what might have happened in the time it took him to get home. What he did see, expected or not, was Cas. 

Every. Single. Inch. of Cas, from ass to foot.

Well, mostly only ass and foot, because he was on his back on the library table, his knees pulled up to his chest and spread wide and his ass hanging just off the edge. Completely on display.

Sam hurried over, wondering what state he’d find Cas in. When he came level with Cas’s head, Cas turned blissed out eyes in his direction. His mouth had been stuffed full with his own shirt, and his arms pulled up level with his neck and secured there with rope that bound him to the table on both sides. Every inch of him was decorated with rope; from the coils holding his legs in place, to the pretty harness on his chest, to the wide swathes circling his wrists so that even if he squirmed it wouldn’t dig in too much.

“Cas?”

He moaned beautifully, as he always did, and yet there was something more too. It went deeper, his eyes were glassy but ablaze, he was deep under the spell of his submission—maybe deeper than Sam had ever pushed him before. Sam felt a little twinge of jealousy, that someone else would know how to press Cas’s buttons more than he did, could know how to pull him apart so expertly, with so little practice.

“Took you long enough.”

Dean’s voice sounded from behind him and Sam smiled, and spun on his heel. Of course Dean would know, of course he wouldn’t play fair, pouncing on Cas like this when his demonic nature would make him go harder, in ways Sam would never dare. He realised he hadn’t fully believed Dean was in this, was doing this, until he saw them both in the same room. The phone call and pictures were one thing, but he’d still half-believed he was dreaming—until now.

“Having fun without me I see.”

“Well we got fucking bored waiting for you to turn up. And stuffing Cas full of dick only helped so much.”

“How long has he been down?” Sam asked, turning worried eyes to his boyfriend. “Have you given him time to rest?”

“He’s rested plenty, I made sure he napped and took all his multi-vitamins. Starting with his doses of vitamin D.” 

Sam didn’t have to look to know Dean was cupping his crotch, lewd as ever. What he didn’t see coming was Dean’s hand shooting out and grabbing his chin, forcing his face forward, making him tear his eyes from Cas in all his glory.

“Eyes on me, pretty boy.”

Sam huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Cut the act Dean, we get it, you’re the big scary demon-Dom here to make us swoon for you. Well, joke’s on you, we’re already mad for you, just been waiting for you to figure it out.”

Dean laughed, released Sam’s chin to double over and wipe away a fake tear from his eye. “See I knew you’d have some sass up your sleeve. But still, I’m gonna need you to make me believe this.”

“Yeah? How Dean? Words not enough for you? Why would we lie?”

“Oh, I believe Cas one hundred percent, we’ve had plenty of hours to really get to grips with how this dynamic is going to work, and just how very into it he is. But you…” 

Dean lunged, grabbed Sam’s belt and hauled him closer, only to spin him to the end of the table and slam him into the space between Cas’s legs. It happened so quickly Sam didn’t have time to process until Dean was up in his face, nosing along his jawline, sniffing like he wanted to inhale every scent of Sam, his other hand joining the one near his belt—nudging between his legs.

Sam automatically widened his stance, gave Dean access, tilted his hips forward to thrust his hard-on into Dean’s waiting palm. “See?” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah big boy, I see. Actions really do speak louder than words.”

“Believe me now?”

Dean was close enough to kiss, his lips lightly brushing Sam’s as he said: “I think we might need to put on a show, just to drive the point home.”

Which was how Sam found himself naked from the waist down, in nothing but his plain tee, facing Cas and slicking up his cock. He held eye contact with Cas, whose chest rose and fell in long languid breaths, even as he tried to roll his hips toward Sam. Cas whined, the most sinfully beautiful sound, when the ropes held fast and halted any attempt to get closer to Sam, or to get friction on his own cock.

“Hey there,” Sam let go of his cock, and gripped Cas’s thighs, ran his hands across skin puckered around coils of rope, traced the lines of the bindings and the edges of welts and bruises. “Gonna fill you up soon, you ready for that?”

“Of course he’s ready,” Dean spoke up from beside Sam where he sat, legs splayed with his hard cock peeking out from the zipper of his jeans. “He’s fucking made for it.”

Sam threw Dean a dirty look. “He’s not just ‘made for it’, he’s perfect. You’d see so much more if you didn’t just beat him around and hold him down to fuck. The things Cas could do for you… the things he’ll _ let _ you do… you have no idea.”

“Do I sense a hint of jealousy Sammy? Think we had more fun than you expected?”

Sam clenched his teeth, turned back to his boyfriend, spread open and tied in place. He was envious, but more than that he was worried. Cas looked wrecked and he hadn’t been the one to do it, to be there and make sure it was safe, to drink in the sights and sounds of Cas in his submission—usually he knew it all, planned it all, controlled the scene with careful consideration. That Dean would work so wildly, so unpredictably… if this was going to work between the three of them, they had to find a balance—between Cas’s willing subservience, Dean’s unbridled lust, and Sam’s overthinking.

“You’ve gone too hard on him,” he said, voice dipping low. “Cas? You good?” 

Cas nodded fervently, moaned into the rag of a shirt stuffing his mouth, and Sam looked down to see Cas’s hole clenching in rhythm pulses. The one part of himself he could use to entice Sam to get on and fuck him. Cas’s feet twitched in their ropes, and his ankles rolled, as though he was trying to pull Sam closer, wrap his legs around Sam and beg with his body to be used. It made Sam want to laugh, it was so very Cas to make demands in ways Sam would never even dream of.

“See, you’re looking at it all wrong. He’s open for you, all tenderised and ready, he’s taken so many poundings that you’ll fit not trouble. And you’re standing here worried that he’s what—in need of a break? He’s running on adrenaline and lust and deep base needs right now. I’ve kept him on a knife edge and so high strung you’d be doing him a service to give his hole something to do.”

Sam’s breath caught as Dean pushed up behind him, nudged his own cock against the meaty swell of his ass. Dean’s words were the best kind of poison, clouding his mind and his judgement, making him weak at the knees. He’d wanted this for so  _ long. _ Dean in their bed, letting himself soak in their love. And now Dean was offering it to him in a way he never expected, primal and wild.

“You gonna fuck me too? Gonna give me what I’ve been missing?”

“Oh Sammy, you only have to ask.”

It was the easiest thing in the world to slide into Cas’s heat, to dance his fingers along bruises and tweak at all of Cas’s most sensitive spots. It was home, familiar. Cas being at his mercy was always arousing, always intense, always beloved.

Dean, on the other hand, was an ace in the deck, a hand that Sam didn’t know how to beat. 

There were hands on him, and hot breath, and Dean’s presence filled the room. Dean’s knotwork, Dean’s set up, Dean’s ploys and plans and pleasures. It was intoxicating in a way Sam couldn’t put into words, and he could see why Cas had fallen so deep, and so suddenly, under his sway.

His cock sheathed inside of Cas quickly, bottoming out in mere moments as he savoured the way Cas clenched around him. Involuntarily from the way Cas’s eye skipped from place to place, and he twitched in rolls and ebbs, lost in sensation.

“Gonna open up for me?” Dean murmured in Sam’s ear, pulling him from his thoughts and admirations.

“Little occupied and the moment,” he replied, breathless. He gripped Cas harder, groaning from deep in his chest when Dean smacked him on the ass and jolted him until his hips ground up against Cas’s ass.

“I’ll help you out, if you promise not to shoot your load too soon.”

“I’m not promising anything, have you seen what I have to work with here?”

“Once or twice, while I tied him up all pretty for you yeah,” Dean laughed.

Sam gasped at the shock of cold probing fingers delving into his own ass. He was so glad he’d taken the initiative to clean up and prep himself at a truck stop bathroom before he drove the last leg home—it had seemed dirty and debauched then, and it felt no different now. Dean fingered him expertly, long after he needed to distribute lube and ease Sam open. It didn’t leave Sam much room to move, just slow little rolls of his hips as he rocked back and forth, bearing down on Dean’s fingers until Dean finally crooked just right and brushed his prostate.

He was aroused enough that the first touch had him twitching inside Cas, one little motion and his body wanted to careen faster towards release. “F-fuck.”

“Needy,” Dean noted.

“Complaining?”

“Never.”

Sam leaned forward, bowing at the waist to rest his forehead somewhere on Cas’s midriff. He wanted more closeness, more to touch, more to taste—that it gave Dean access to continue his plundering was only a bonus. His hands idly played with the ropes binding Cas down and he distracted himself from the singing pleasure between his legs by whispering praises into Cas’s skin.

“So good.” And he surged deeper into the wet hole Cas had offered up. “Holding on for me.” And he pressed back for Dean’s fingers. “My best boy.” As he shifted his weight and moved to tug on a nipple, rolled it between his fingers, and then between his teeth. “So fucked out, aren’t you?”

“Not sure he’s listening, Sammy.” Dean bracketed his hips, one palm heavy on each side, warm, dry, steady.

Sam looked up into Cas’s face, unsurprised to see his attention laser focused, his eyes boring steadily into Sam’s own. Blinking slow, eyes crinkling with a smile that was held back only by the gag widening his jaw.

“He’s always listening, doesn’t miss a thing.”

Sam trailed his hands over Cas’s chest and torso, teasing him with feather light touches on the bruises that littered his body. He knew Cas loved pain, got off on it, but looking down he saw that Cas’s cock was spent and he didn’t want to frustrate him further. Though judging from the whine, Cas was eager for more stimulation even if he couldn’t get off on it.

Dean reached around and rubbed one thumb over Cas’s cock, flipped it up until it laid flush on Cas’s belly. “I’m afraid he’s all wrung dry, begged me to empty him out so he could just be a hole to fuck.”

Sam didn’t doubt it, what with Cas’s penchant for masochism. “Was that before or after you gagged him?”

“Mostly before, a little after. His voice is a bit wrecked though, so we worked on some non-verbal communication.”

Cas closed his eyes and tipped his head back, moaned and writhed and bore down on Sam’s cock. Sam thrust forward and only pulled back again so quickly because Dean hauled on his hips and made him.

“Not so fast cowboy, this horse isn’t ready to ride yet.”

Sam shook his head and growled. “Hurry up and get on then, if you’re gonna.”

“Oh and now you’re bossy.” Dean bit down on his shoulder, and Sam laughed, rocking his hips to bring some pleasure to ease the brief pain.

“Yeah, and that I know you'll complain about.”

“Always, bitch.” 

Sam felt Dean’s smile against his flushed skin, and then the tease of a tongue over the flesh irritated and bruised by Dean’s teeth. He thrust his hips backwards, nestled his ass into Dean’s crotch and rubbed in a crude figure eight. “Jerk. Hurry up.”

Dean got to work rubbing his dick up Sam’s crack, spreading his cheeks to get access. Dean’s hands gripping his ass got Sam’s attention, noticing all of the finger shaped bruises marking Cas’s skin. He gasped and moaned as Dean played with his rim, tugging and pulling and teasing, and played his own game too. He spanned his hands across Cas’s torso, lining up all the bruises with his fingertips. Began to press and bring illicit little shudders rocking through Cas.

Dean’s cock pushed steadily and insistently at Sam’s opening. Pushing in a little at a time, before drawing back, only to surge forward again. It had been a while for Sam since he’d done this, and the stretch, and burn, and pleasure sang through his veins.

Cas clenched where he was buried deep as he pressed on a darker one and he yelled as it coincided with Dean thrusting an inch inside.

“Try out his neck,” Dean said breathlessly over his shoulder. “He loves it.”

Sam pouted, there were so many contusions there already, a collar-like ring around Cas’s throat. Cas nodded encouragingly as he danced fingertips over the skin. “Think you went a bit overboard.”

“Never,” Dean bit his shoulder again and worked his way deeper. 

Sam threw his head back and pawed at Cas’s face, his neck, his chest, panting through the stimulation. The sight of his large hand cupping Cas’s cheek, the arousal coursing through his system, Dean’s filthy encouragements and powerful thrusts left him breathless. Dizzy with it. Desperate for more. 

Slowly he lined up his hand with the darkest bruise, mesmerised by how his hand fit so perfectly onto the marks Dean had left. He closed his fingers bit by bit, feeling the resistance as Cas’s throat couldn’t give anymore. 

They’d both done this, him and Dean, and now they were here, together. And Cas was a mess of need and fulfilled desire, still eager for more. Dean pumping his hips hard while Sam became blissed out between them.

“Need Dean, gotta, gotta have you.”

“You only had to ask.” 

Dean gripped tighter and didn’t waste time, after that, as though the teasing portion of the night were done. That it was Dean only made it more intense; that it was Cas below him as they fucked all at once made him want to tear down the universe and freeze time in this moment, now, forever.

Of course he couldn’t and before long Dean began a slow pistoning of his hips, driving balls deep and pushing Sam forward to do the same to Cas. Cas who twitched in small aborted movements, and whined and rolled his head at the stimulation. Sam dug his fingers deep into Cas, leaving little divots on his skin, small fingernail crescents to mark his dominance over the flesh and muscles wrapped up tightly and offered up below him.

Dean’s pace was steady, strong and demon-powered; he pushed them both closer and closer without slowing down. Sam’s pleasure grew, and when Dean reached between them and rolled his tightening balls, stroked his perineum, Sam fell to his elbows—one on either side of Cas’s torso. He gripped the ropes for all he was worth and held on as Dean rammed them both towards the finish line.

It didn’t take long before he lost the race against holding out and came, ball deep inside Cas and heaving breathy moans. Dean chuckled behind him, and he wouldn’t have expected it but Dean’s slowed to a rocking, gentle rhythm as Sam emptied in spurts of pleasure. 

“Dean, fuck, Dean…”

“I know baby, I know. Hold on now.”

Dean held him steady by the hips, leaving his own marks behind the way Sam did to Cas; fingertip bruises would litter both their bodies. Dean pummelled him hard and fast for a minute that felt like it lasted a lifetime—had been something he’d waited for for more lifetimes than he could count—and then rolled his hips as his dick pulsed and Sam felt the filling, squelching, sensation of Dean claiming him.

Everything he’d wanted, yearned for, thought he would never get… painted in shades of bruises and spunk on all their skins.

He had just about caught his breath when Dean grabbed for his arms, dragging them behind his back and securing them with.. was that his own shirt? He jostled inside Cas as he was pulled back at an angle and Cas’s eyes rolled back in his head, a cut-off moan rattling from his chest that Sam wished he could hear more clearly.

“Dean?”

Dean yanked his wrists tight, secured them with a haphazard knot and then pulled Sam backward—still buried in his ass.

“Gotcha.” Dean licked a stipe up his neck and walked them in lumbering awkward steps until he hauled Sam down into a chair.

Sam grunted, off balance and surprised at the sudden change of direction. Sitting on his brother's lap with said brother’s cock still twitching happily in his hole. 

“I can feel that. Um, why?”

“Because I don't want you running off, making googly eyes and cleaning everybody up. Not yet. Just watch.” Dean reached around him, tweaking a nipple and making him arch, before he pointed at Cas. “When he stops dripping your  _ seed _ , we can untie him. Until then… just keep me warm.”

Sam huffed, and then squirmed as Dean’s hands roamed over his body, copping a feel of well… everything. He swiped the drying come from Sam’s spent cock and offered it to Sam’s mouth. Sam cringed away, muttering a  _ no thank you  _ and Dean wiped it off on Sam’s thigh. 

“You’re disgusting,” Sam said, not un-fondly.

“I’m a demon.” Dean nibbled at his earlobe and wrapped an arm around his waist, forcing Sam to lean further back into Dean’s chest.

“Yeah about that…” Sam settled, uncomfortable but willing to put up with it to have Dean near. It was odd, Dean being clothed with just his jeans down round his hips and Sam and Cas naked, but it didn’t feel wrong either.

Dean covered his mouth with one hand. “Shh, let that be tomorrow's fight.”

Sam sighed and watched Cas instead of thinking. Cas rippled in the ropes, looking for give he wasn’t going to find, and Sam knew he’d be loving every second of the restriction. Sam’s come dripped slowly from his hole, down to the library floor, as Cas clenched and unclenched.

“Look at him. Desperate not to be empty, aren’t you Angel?”

Cas rolled his head in their direction, eyes looking a little brighter, more alert than they had. Sam had to admit it was mesmerising, seeing him all trussed up with nowhere to go, even if the thought of scrubbing his own come off the floor didn’t exactly appeal. It went on for a few minutes, Dean pinching and stroking and teasing him while he writhed on Dean’s dick and Cas spilled every drop back the way it had come.

“Let me go deal with our boy.” Dean kissed him on the side of his head and finally eased his dick out of his ass, before depositing Sam back on the chair.

“Don’t take too long,” Sam reminded him. “I wanna take you to bed properly.”

“I don’t need to sleep,” Dean replied over his shoulder as he worked the gag from Cas’s mouth. 

“You will tonight if you know what’s good for you,” Sam muttered, though he didn’t care that Dean wasn’t listening anymore, too focused on Cas. 

He didn’t really enjoy the feel of Dean’s come leaking out of his own ass onto the chair, too gross and too odd, so he clenched to keep it in—smiling ruefully when he realised that was probably exactly Dean’s plan. 

Dean undid the ropes holding Cas slowly, rubbing feeling back into limbs, lengthening the process with kisses and sinking his teeth in to make new bruises on previously undiscovered spots on Cas’s body.

“I think he likes you, Cas.”

“I think he loves us,” Cas replied, his words slurred and voice a wispy croak. 

“Though he might be too much of a coward to say it,” Sam said, tipping his head back, reclining more on his chair.

“Hey!” Dean growled. “I’m no coward.” Cas squealed as Dean bit down on a nipple. “I’m just more of a doer than a talker.”

“You definitely did us both very well,” Sam added with a laugh.

“Oh look at you getting smart with innuendo.” Dean wrapped a hand around Cas’s throat, pinning his head back down onto the table. “I always wondered if you were a real dirty talker under all those layers of repression.”

“It’s true,” Sam added. “And I taught him all sorts of terribly filthy things.”

He smiled as Dean exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and climbed up on the table beside Cas to loosen the rest of the knots. “I can see that, more fun for me.”

Sam was content to sit back and watch his black-eyed, demonic tainted brother be softer than he ever imagined possible. Teasing Cas gently as he eased him back down out of the high-strung subspace he’d been in since before Sam arrived.

Both of them know the makeshift rope around Sam’s wrists would come undone easily enough, that Dean hadn’t tied it tight enough to be secure. But Sam let it stay exactly where it was, because it was what Dean wanted, and he because he wanted to give Dean anything and everything he desired. They’d waited long enough, now it was time to have their wants fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter too, I had a lot of fun with it! I'm open to potentially writing a third instalment, if there's anything you would want to see do let me know...
> 
> Comments and kudos are, as always, a writer's bread and butter, and feeding is always appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you found that all as delicious as I did!
> 
> Comments and kudos always loved and welcome <3
> 
> Thanks to Triss for the beta read and Tori for helping me brainstorm the portion with Sam when I pouted about him not getting screen time 😁


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